Moments of the United
by Nishinn
Summary: Happy, sad, ecstatic, tragic-a variation of one-shots and two-shots and three-shots and drabbles of all lengths and emotions, featuring the lovely America and England together in a multitude of AUs and canonverse stories. Drop by if you're interested, and behold a collection of short stories I've written for the darling USUK!
1. Before We Jump

**(a/n): Hey there! Welcome to this collection of one-shots of my beloved OTP. These will be uploaded at random, and this 'story' will be sort of like a portfolio, if you will, of all the random one-shots and drabbles I have to write for USUKUS. A lot of these are and will be uploaded onto my tumblr writing blog ( _nish-s-random-writing for any of you interested folks ;) )  
_**

 **So yeah, here we go with one-shot number one. Hope you enjoy!  
~Nish**

* * *

 **Before We Jump**

"The sky is beautiful today, isn't it, love?"

Alfred sighs, steadily, a calm release of breath as he clutches Arthur's hand; it's the only string of tension in an otherwise relaxing scene.

The wind whips at Alfred's hair, sending his dirtied golden locks skittering all around his head. It's funny to think of it that way. Arthur laughs. He loves the lilt of amusement that sparks in the other's blue eyes when notices his little laugh. He likes it that Alfred is smiling.

"So, here we are," Alfred says. And indeed, there they were, on the ledge of the crumbling concrete of a rooftop. The sun is setting over the horizon sending a watercolor splash of pinks and purples and oranges into the sky. The clouds are moving fast overhead, and Arthur could almost imagine that the burning red glow over the horizon was only part of the sunset, and not an angry fire rapidly closing in.

Alfred closes his eyes and he hums, his thumb rubbing against Arthur's knuckles. He was always a bad singer, but his humming wasn't quite as horrid. In fact, at the moment, it sounded divine to Arthur's ears. It made it possible to ignore the pounding against the metal door behind them. Well, almost.

Despite the warmth of Alfred pressed against him, the fresh mid-summer air, the majestic sunset blessing the city skyline before him—despite everything that Arthur was seeing, breathing, and living, he looked down.

He looked down and saw, twenty stories below, the mass of limping, bloodied _things_ scrambling toward their building. If he closed his eyes, Arthur could simply picture the rotten, melted flesh hanging off of disfigured limbs of what were once people. His friends and his family, potentially. In that crowd that now came banging up the stairs, there might have been someone Arthur once knew.

The postman could have been the armless creature Alfred shot to pieces the other night. His gym teacher could have been the creature that came seconds away from tearing Alfred's skull open. His own mother could have been the mass of flesh and teeth that ripped through Arthur's arm, the creature that sent its infective ooze now racing through him system, melting him away with each passing minute.

It would only take hours for him to turn into one of them, and Arthur didn't want that.

He finds Alfred staring at him, down at his arms, where his open wound bubbled and sizzled in green ooze and crimson blood.

"Are you sure about this, love?" Arthur asks, his heart beating calmer and steadier than it should have. "You can still fight your way out."

Alfred looks down, then back up as though he'd simply made a good-natured joke. "Through _that?_ I'm as good as dead too, you know."

Arthur hums in agreement. So it really has come to this.

"Are you ready?" Arthur asks, lips pressed against his lover's ear.

"Yes," Alfred whispers back. He pulls him close to kiss him, one last time. His movements are sweet and slow and passionate, sending a burning flood of emotion through Arthur's chest. His lips tingle, he feels Alfred's tongue pushing past to explore his mouth.

And then he's gone, breathing hard, looking at Arthur with a satisfied sadness that made him sure, in this very moment, without a beat of sarcasm or doubt, that he really truly loves Alfred F. Jones.

"I love you," he says, with every ounce of sincerity he could muster, to let Alfred know that he spoke true.

His eyes crinkle as he smiles. Tears well up in his sky blue eyes, now somewhat reflecting the fading light of a golden sunset. He looks at Arthur, taking him in, every bit of the man he fell in love with so many years ago—and yet, they were only nineteen. Such a shame that the rose is cut before it can truly bloom.

So he speaks, "I love you," and kisses him again—the last words to be spoken by any man on earth.

And then they jumped.

* * *

 **(a/n): welp. hope you liked that. why not drop a review and tell me what you think? ;)**


	2. Smoke In the Water

_**Summary:** They say a good captain always went down with his ship. Luckily for Arthur, he wasn't exactly a 'good' captain. Besides, his first mate would never let him go down no matter what. _

_USUK Pirate!AU_

* * *

 **Smoke in the Water**

Smoke.

It filled Arthur's lungs, and covered his eyes. It choked him with its chalky thickness and poured out of his gaping mouth as he gasped for breath. Here and there, a harsh orange glow flickered through the wood. It was hot—unbearably so. The hair on his forearms singed away and the heat licked at his cheek.

And then it was cold—unbelievably cold, all around his legs. He was moving sluggishly up broken stairs, clutching at splintering wood.

And then the smoke cleared but the smell stayed, and his face cooled, and his trousers hung heavy and wet around his waist. He heard the screams, then.

Harsh screams. Men burning and running, jumping overboard and engulfing themselves in the flames. They leaped from the collapsing mast and waded through rising water now spilling onto the deck. They screamed for the captain, begged for help with his name, and then the cries were washed away with another tremulous wave. The ship rocked once more.

The _S.S. Majesty_ was capsizing now, leaning too far to starboard.

Arthur clutched at the splintery railing, trying to keep himself standing amongst the waves, the flames, and the smoke. Amongst the cries of his mean who he couldn't save, amongst the desperate calls for an order. What was he to do now, but stare into the reflection of flickering flames that dotted the dark ocean water before him?

" _Arthur!_ " A voice rang out, familiar, important. " _Arthur, get over here!_ "

The captain looked up, seeing the image of his first mate flailing desperately towards him. His clothes were blackened and the edges still glowing red. He was bleeding through the side of his head.

"What have you done now, boy?" Arthur yelled through the commotion. He reached out his arm just as Alfred did, clutching onto him for dear life. He was grateful, knowing he was still safe, more or less.

"I-I'm sorry," He stammered. "I failed you. I've damned you all. I can't do a damn thing but hold onto this ship and—"

"Arthur, we have to jump."

" _What?_ "

Arthur looked up. Alfred's blue eyes reflected the flames, and they were dead serious. Grimy and fatigued his face looked, but his eyes showed determination and desperation. A man willing to jump overboard despite being in the middle of the damned ocean.

"Alfred—" he tried to reason, he had to. But the boy wouldn't listen.

"Please, Arthur, we need to jump! It's the only way to save both our asses." Alfred grabbed his waist and edged him closer to the ship's railing, but Arthur dug his boots into the floorboards, clutching his arm and pushing back with a hiss.

"I can't swim!" He yelled.

Alfred must've done a double take, but he was too focused on the water to notice.

" _What?!_ What do you mean you can't swim? You're a fucking pirate!" Said the first mate.

Despite the utter fear churning within his stomach, Arthur swallowed and looked up at Alfred with what he hoped was fury. "I can't bloody swim, you twat! Most pirates can't swim! Neither can the most of the bloody British Isles, for God's sake!"

Alfred blinked, brows furrowed, looking frustrated and confused. "But you live surrounded by _water_!"

"Surrounded by it, not _in_ it!"

Alfred blinked, then steeled his jaw. With a great bolt of determination, he clutched Arthur harder around the waist and all but dragged him to the edge of the ship. She was near halfway to capsizing now, and the water was a good eight foot jump below.

"Alfred! _Alfred!_ Stop you idiot, please!"

Arthur wasn't ready to jump. He didn't want to be surrounded by darkness. He would suffocate, even more than in the smoke. He would die down there.

"Arthur. Arthur, please, trust me." Alfred's voice broke him out of his stupor, and slowly he looked up.

He looked into dead serious blue eyes.

"Relax, please. I've got you. I won't let you drown. I'll have you know, I'm a good swimmer!" He smiled a tad, not looking away. Arthur felt himself gulp, let his grip loosen, as Alfred's tightened around him.

"I-I'll weigh you down."

"No you won't. I'll keep us both safe, okay? I got us. Do you trust me?"

Arthur knew the answer. He'd given it a million times and had his life saved a million times. His heels still dug into the floorboards and his grip on Alfred could rival a tourniquet, but he looked at Alfred, and kept looking, without even so much as a glance at the nightmare that waited below and was sure to shoot up his lungs within minutes, then said, "Of course I do."

Alfred smiled and held him tight, and with a final push they jumped, abandoning the burning wreck above.

* * *

 **(a/n): Wowee how dramatic. Anyway, tell me what you thought! I actually had a lot of fun writing this~**


End file.
